St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-05-28
the mill at West Athens, working many
days when many men would have pro-
nounced it very rough to be on the road.
A MYSTERIOUS SHOT.
Queer Experience of a Scout DUR
ing the Dark Days.

ing the Dark Days.
Detroit Free Press.
During Bragg's occupation of Mission
Ridge and Lookout Mountain was con-
nected with the Army of the Tennessee
as a scout, and in seeking tore-enter the
city after trip lasting four days / was
captured on the Rossville road, about
three miles from Snodgrass Hill, around
which the battle of Chickamauga
ragged so fiercely. The whole coun-
try was full of rebel soldiers. scouts and
bushwhackers, and / was moving
through the woods with the utmost
care, thinking to get as near to our lines
as possible before dark, when man in
butternut clothes suddenly stepped out
in front of me from behind large tree,
lifted shotgun to an aim, and called
out:
"Stand right thar, OF I'll blow the top
of yer head off,
was more than SCOUT was a spy.
That is, / was in Semi-rebel uniform
and within the enemy's lines, and any
drumlead court-martial would sentence
me to death. | was not altogether I'M
prepared or the meeting, having real
lied the probability, and as the gun
covered me L answered the man in
what l tried to make steady voice:
''lf it's all the same to you. prefer
to sit down, for I'm clean beat out with
hard work"
sat down on a log and looked up at
him. He was man of about 40 years
of age, tall, gaunt and fierce-loOking,
and from the cut of his clothes | took
him to be member of some predatory
rebel band which had been called out
for the time being ana assigned with
the regular troops. He might, however,
have been regular scout, or BUSH
whacker working ON his own hook. At
this point we were between the rebel
front and the pickets and outp0sts. and
in very thick wood. The time was
o'clock in the afternoon.
As | sat down the man lowered his
gun and stood leaning on it for minute
while he surveyed me. Then | noticed
that he had been drinking, and was
what is termed ugly drunk. His eyes
were bloOdshot, his face covered with
Scowls. and it was plain enough that he
was ripe for murder.
who be you?" he demanded in a
gruff voice.
Q''John Thomas, scoutfor Gen. Bragg.
Who are you?"
80 you know Gineral Bragg, eh?''
Certainly
so do 1! Purity good man, eh?"
eyes. Who are you?"
'None o. your id biZneSs!" he eX-
claimed, after regarding me for a full
| half minute.
"Well, don't care. What are you do
ing here in the woods?"
$50 you know Gineral Bragg, eh?'' he
queried, coming little closer.
Il told you l did. Pm going to his
headquarters now"
"Oh. you be? Mebbe you'd be so kind
as to pint out whar' them headquarters
are?"
q would if I could, but l haven't
found 'em yet"
Il thought sol and so you know the
gineral by sight?'
| 81 do.''
''Mebbe you'd be so kind and conde-
scendin' as to describe HIM to me?''
He had me there. / had never heard
the generals looks passed upon. and L
realized that the chances were not one
in twenty that could hit him.
"Well, I'm waitingw growled the
man after moment.
Q"Oh, you are" l sneered, changing
my tone and demeanor. Now, then, I
want to know all about you. Eve been
thinking you might be a Yankee spy. 1
ought to take you back to the lines.''
''He. he. he!" chuckled the fellow, as
he leered at me. Say. Yank. you amt
half smart! | knowed you on sight,
and your voice give you away!''
O''DOn't 'Yank' me- | Indignantly eX-
claimed. "You come along to the picket
post and I'll find out who you arel''
j started to rise up. but he lifted his
gun to his face and growled along the
barrel:
You've got jist thirty seconds to
live. and you'd better do some tall pray
ing"
He meant murder. could see it in
his eyes and read it in his face. Whether
he really took me for Yankee spy or
whether he wanted to kill me out of
pure cussedness and for the sake of
plumber, l know not. but he
had my head covered with his
aim, finger on the trigger, and was ap-
parently counting off the seconds al
lowed me, when he suddenly straight
ened up, dropped his gun, threw up his
arms and fell forward at my feet. As
he was falling l heard the report of a
gun not far away, and knew that the
man had been shot. sprang up and
took refuge behind large tree, and
though l waited and watched for
half an hour no one appeared nor
could l detect movemement l
crept on hands and knees to the Stiffen-
ing corpse and saw that the man had
been shot in the back. took the shot
back to tree 200 feet away, and there
found footprints where the shooter had
stood. Who he was, why he had fired
the shot, and which way he went are
matters which l have never been able to
solve.
Theoeore Tilton in Paris.
| Paris Letter to Pittsburgh Dispatch.
| 81